


Communication is key to a good marriage

by Nonesane



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Art, Canon-Typical Violence, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Art, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Solarpunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-19 02:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonesane/pseuds/Nonesane
Summary: Billy and Goody have been living in the small commune of Rose Creek for several years now, and have been married almost as long. Billy works as a messenger while Goody sorts through the historical archives, trying to preserve all information salvaged from Earth pre-Martian-civil-war, and they're pretty happy. Unfortunately, Goody's past is about to come knocking, and it's armed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art credit to the magnificent [Jolien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolien/pseuds/Jolien)! The art came first and this story bloomed in its tracks :)

Billy, whose name had been Billy for so long that it had begun feeling like his real one, woke up next to his husband. This wasn't unusual as his husband tended to stay in bed as long as the world would allow him to. Still, something being a habit didn't mean you should stop appreciating it.  
  
"Are you watching me sleep again?"  
  
Allowing himself a huff of laughter, Billy leaned forward and kissed Goody's forehead. "I'm getting up. So should you."  
  
Goody grumbled, not opening his eyes but shifting closer to Billy. "The manuscripts aren't going anywhere. It's barely dawn."  
  
Billy rolled his eyes, fondness welling up inside him like water from a broken fire hydrant. "Lazy."  
  
"Sensible," Goody replied. "Whatever possess you to to get up before the sun has bothered to, I'll never understand." The last words Billy barely caught as Goody had turned over and mumbled them into a pillow. Seeing as it was Billy's pillow he quickly reclaimed it, leaving Goody's head to hit the mattress. Goody let out a soft 'oof' but no further complaints.  
  
"What are your plans for today?" Billy asked, finally beginning the task of getting dressed.  
  
"Working on the archive files," came from under Goody's own pillow as he pulled it over his head.  
  
"Alone in the dark, all day?"  
  
"No." Goody peaked out from beneath the pillow, a smile tugging at his lips. "Matthew is helping me out."  
  
Billy took his turn expressing exasperation, sighing as he got out of his pajamas pants and into his work clothes. "So company in the dark. You're hopeless."  
  
"What does that say about you? Having married me and all."  
  
This time, Billy couldn't help but laugh. A lightness filled him, expected yet treasured, a sensation he otherwise only got to feel while working. "Clearly I am a fool."  
  
"I want that in writing," Goody called after him as Billy excited their bedroom. Billy couldn't see his face but the familiar affection in his voice rang clear.  
  
Their house, like most houses nowadays, was built to take up more vertical than horizontal space. Billy nipped downstairs through the living room and into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. He found Goody asleep when he got back upstairs. This time, Billy didn't bother him.  
  
Outside the sunrise gave way to blue sky. It being fall, the morning air was cool enough to let indoors, though it could get scorching hot come lunchtime. Billy carefully shut the balcony door behind him.  
  
His wings lay on the a table out there, soaking up every ray of sunshine that hit them. He strapped them on with ease and stepped off the balcony, delighting in the rush of air and vertigo. In the privacy of wind and sky he let out a delighted "Whoop!" right as he pulled up to gain altitude.  
  
Back in the day, years before Billy's birth, a car or a motorcycle would have been the go-to vehicle for a messenger. A sting of guilt always struck him when he flew, because if the world had been allowed to remain whole and hale winged courier would never have been anyone's career path. Still, that guilt always drowned in the rush of flight, _true_ flight. Two wings carrying him far above the water of the sea and the countless crevasses that broke up the landscape. Far below lay a spattering of farms but the majority was a mixture of empty grassland, rocky ground and water. Most buildings stood on the tops of cliffs, like the spot of land where his and Goody's house had its roots. He remained at the level of the houses as he flew, though only for the moment. He was aiming for the highest point in the region: a tooth-pick of a mountain with the well-guarded postal tower balanced on its top.  
  
Billy activated the ascension protocol for his wings. All the protector drones circling the mountain immediately lost interest in him. He arrived at the postal drop without issue, beaming with joy for no one to see.  
  
The wind tore at him, close to a gale. This high up you could see all of the Rose Creek commune, spread out over what habitable land was left in this area. As he waited for the delivery drones to download messages into and strap small packages onto his wings, Billy allowed himself a moment to take in the view. Deep canyons, teeming with life both land-based and aquatic; houses balancing far above the steep valleys like colorful toy block towers, solar panels glinting and gleaming; people who from this far away looked small as ants crossing rope-bridges to get to their neighbors and to market.  
  
The soft ding of the last delivery drone brought him out of his reverie. He activated his display and grimaced. Mostly local deliveries, yes, but one that would take him the better part of the day. At least he'd get to sleep in his own bed.  
  
He threw himself off the top of the postal tower and took aim for the market. He needed to get out of the wind as well as start this delivery round.  
  
Smiling faces - well, all except one - greeted him as he touched ground between _Vasquez's Greens And Growing Things_ and the local tech stable.  
  
"Good morning, _ángel_ ," Vasquez purred from behind his shop's counter, exaggerated flirting in firm place. "Got a message for me?"  
  
Billy raised an eyebrow, making sure to keep his back to the tech stable on the other side of the road. He could feel the eyes of one Joshua Faraday dig into his back and do their best to tunnel their way through his skull. Vasquez's face split into a grin, his gaze on Billy but his mind clearly elsewhere.  
  
"Why yes I do," Billy said, answering Vasquez's grin and sauntering into his shop with what Goody called his 'I own this place'-walk. "I do believe you've gotten an answer from that botanist at the University." There was only so many universities in operation, and only one that sent messages in need of delivery instead of digital transfer, so he hardly needed to specify further. Billy made sure to lean farther over the counter than strictly necessary and to not glance over his shoulder across the street.  
  
"How long are you going to torture the man?" Billy whispered into Vasquez's ear as he plugged the connection cable from his wings into the shop's computer.  
  
"As long as it takes for him to get a fucking clue," Vasquez whispered back, doing a good job of pretending to stare longingly at Billy while likely also keeping an eye across the street. "Besides, flirting with a man as lovely as you is no hardship."  
  
"A married man." Billy leaned back, smiling.  
  
"Yes, and your husband plays along much better than you. He recites poetry."  
  
"I'm sure he does." Goody had probably done a number of other equally embarrassing things in the name of stirring Faraday into action. He could be wonderfully melodramatic.  
  
Leaning yet farther across the counter, bringing their faces so close their lips almost touched, Billy said: "Are these complaints I'm hearing? Would you like me to put more effort into your little con?"  
  
Ah, was that a blush? Oh yes, Vasquez's cheeks had indeed gone a touch red. "Uhm…"  
  
Billy straightened up, though not before brushing imaginary lint off Vasquez's left shoulder, letting his fingers graze Vasquez's bare throat just so. "I think we're done here," he said, nodding to the shop's computer and unplugging his wings.  
  
Vasquez gave a laugh, his face still flushed. "Ah, I keep forgetting what a wily one you are, _ángel_. No wonder the historian likes you so much."  
  
"Liked me enough to marry me." Billy's fingers found their way to the ring that hung on a chain around his neck, letting the light catch on the golden band. "Don't you forget that."  
  
"That would likely be the last mistake I ever made."  
  
Billy did his best to laugh along with that. He'd set himself up for that one and couldn't really blame Vasquez for the joke, especially as the man couldn't know they'd stumbled onto a sore subject. Covering his discomfort with a wink, Billy exited the shop, pointedly didn't look over at the fuming Joshua Faraday, and took to the air. He had a busy day ahead.  
  


* * *

Goody made a point of staying in bed until noon. He'd seen the horde of drones settle on the distant postal tower the night before and that meant Billy would be home late. No better reason to sleep in than knowing he'd shave off some hours away from Billy. Also, sleep. Sleep was great.  
  
When he finally made his way down to the elevator that would take him to the archive bunker, Matthew Cullen stood waiting outside the door.  
  
"Took your sweet time."  
  
Goody gave his best winsome grin. "Always. Shall we?"  
  
Matthew did some grumbling on the ride down, but once they were settled far under ground and had got to work his tempered evened out. They sorted through documents in companionable silence until the elevator started up again around dinner time.  
  
Bleary-eyed, Goody looked up from the remains of a fifty year old map and spotted Teddy Q entering the hall of records, holding freshly baked bread.  
  
"Emma send you down with food for us?" Matthew asked from behind the pile of biology books he'd been cross-referencing and transferring to the new drives.  
  
Teddy hesitated, then set down the bread basket and unslung a bundle from his shoulder. "Uhm," he said, already flushed, "Red Harvest isn't here?"  
  
"No," said Goody, enjoying this piece of commune drama to its fullest. Teddy Q and Red Harvest were as fine entertainment as a good romance novel. "So you'd better save those cookies for when he gets here." He gave the bundle a nod. "The 3D modeling isn't planned until seven at the earliest, possibly eight."  
  
Teddy had the presence of mind to cover his ever reddening face with his hands. He sunk down into a chair and Goody's heart tore between pity and amusement. Amusement won out; he'd seen the way Red Harvest looked at Teddy whenever the two of them were in the same room - that would sort itself out before long.  
  
"Cousin, you are beyond precious," said Matthew, stifling laughter.  
  
"That you are, and your budding romance is leagues above Vasquez and Faraday's to boot," Goody cut in. "At least you're trying to court the person who've set your heart on."  
  
"Did you just actually say _court_?"  
  
Goody gave Matthew the toothiest smile he could summon, which was a lot of teeth indeed. "Of course! Courting is romantic."  
  
"No wonder you ended up married to Billy Rocks. You are easily the two biggest saps around these parts," Matthew said, all good-natured ribbing.  
  
"Why thank you kindly. Though I think Teddy and Red Harvest will be giving us a good run for our money once they're done being too embarrassed to talk to each other."  
  
Teddy choked on air, which set Matthew off laughing and then onto further teasing. Goody would have joined in, was about to even, when he happened to spot the elevator lights over Teddy's shoulder. He studied them carefully, kept his face blank.  
  
"Teddy?" Goody said after a couple of minutes, interrupting Matthew's listing of all the times Teddy had gone out of his way to save the best bread for Red Harvest, among other adorable acts of love. His attention remained mainly on the elevator lights, but he made sure to sweep his eyes over the whole room every other second.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Did you lock the elevator?"  
  
Teddy blinked, looking as close to offended as he ever got. "Yes, of course I did."  
  
"Then why is it moving?"  
  


* * *

"And what news do you bring me?"  
  
Billy gave the room's only computer a pointed look.  
  
Sam Chisolm smiled. On the face of a younger man without the power of the law behind him said smile could have been called playful. As things stood, it had a more challenging air to it; it told you that whoever had spoken had called out the smiler, not the other way around. "You know I hate reading dry reports."  
  
Billy, who knew Sam too well to be intimated, said: "Then why should I bother delivering messages to you?"  
  
"Because how else will I get all this sensitive information handed to me, safe and sound?" Sam poured them both drinks - lemonade, because neither of them were the kind of people to drink on the job, at least not any more - and nodded again at the computer. "I'll go through the finer details later, I assure you. But I'd like to hear your take on it first."  
  
"Of course you do." He accepted the drink and took a seat. Better to get a moment of rest out of this trip. It was a long flight back home.  
  
"Nothing serious, by the looks of it." Billy activated the display on his left wing, showing the surveillance photos Emma had added to the information package; round metallic objects caught in flight above Rose Creek. "Some Mars based company sending survey drones out that Red Harvest got good before they could become a problem. Cullen just wants to know who's sending them so we can file an official complaint."  
  
"Mmm-hmmm."  
  
Billy kept silent. Sam was good at giving people an expectant silence to fill, but Billy had long practice at keeping quiet while under duress. Goody had once said that having the two of them in the same room was like introducing an unstoppable force to an immovable object. Luckily, they were humans not things, so one of them would eventually secede. This time, neither of them broke first; their communicators did.  
  
Billy, having already been about to activate his (though he'd never admit that) ended up receiving the alarm first. A soft beeping filled the room, sending shivers down two spines.  
  
"I need to get back," Billy said, already standing. It was a general alarm, a call for help from Rose Creek to all communes within sending range. This should have been followed, or even preceded, by a call from Goody. Should have.  
  
Sam too got up. "If there's trouble from above, I'm coming with you. I'll go get my bike."  
  


* * *

Goody had time to press the button for the general alarm and pull Teddy and Matthew to the floor, right before the elevator doors pinged open.  
  
"What the-?" He also managed to cover Matthew's mouth before he could complete that sentence. Not perfect, but better than nothing. At least Teddy had the wherewithal to keep quiet. That or fear had silenced him. Either way it worked in their favor.  
  
Heavy boots entered the room. Since it was a big room the steps echoed impressively and menacingly. Goody bit back a curse. He carefully avoided Teddy and Matthew's questioning looks, gesturing for them to keep low and hidden. Without a visual it was hell to figure out how many assailants had come down with the elevator. What was the limit of that damn thing? Twenty people?  
  
The footfalls continued, spreading out through the archive. Goody wished they'd thought to turn on more lights while working and not been so set on energy conservation. There were far too many dark corners to hide in now, rows upon rows of book cases and filing cabinets that created a labyrinth several stories high.  
  
He dared a peek around the corner of the desk they huddled behind. There were five people by the closed elevator doors, wearing dark clothes and armed to the teeth. They looked far too calm for comfort.  
  
Goody did his best to give Matthew and Teddy a reassuring smile, gesturing at the alarm button, but couldn't put his heart into calming them. Trapped in a room with only one exit, unarmed, two possible hostages, and no real hiding spaces.  
  
This was very much not his scene.  
  
Someone by the elevator cleared their throat. Goody held his breath, dared another peek.  
  
"Goodnight Robicheaux!" a man at the head of the invading group shouted into the archive, freezing Goody's blood to ice. "We've got a job for you."


	2. Chapter 2

At any other time, Billy wouldn't have been caught dead riding behind Sam Chilsom on his hover bike. He'd rather have walked back to Rose Creek than let his dignity be ground to dust in that manner. Sam's frown had deepened further at Billy's lack of even a mock-protest at his suggested means of travel, but thankfully he knew better than to comment.  
  
Wind whipping around them made anything but holding on difficult. Despite that Billy held on with only one arm; the other he angled so he could see his outgoing call to Goody.  
  
Twenty minutes. He'd been calling for twenty minutes.  
  
"No answer?" Sam shouted above the howling wind and the purring engine of the hover bike.  
  
Billy glared at his communicator. Its display kept showing _Calling Husband_. No change. "No."  
  
"Emma isn't picking up either."  
  
Billy's gut turned itself into impressive pretzel shapes. "Can't you go any faster?" he managed to say, fighting to unclench his teeth long enough for the words to make sense.  
  
"Better hold on with both arms then!"  
  
With one last look at his communicator, Billy cursed and did as asked.  
  


* * *

Goody should have seen the call coming. He'd been the one to set off the alarm, after all. And yet, when the cheerful chirping of his communicator started up he'd been too busy keeping an eye on the intruders to silence it in time.  
  
Matthew and Teddy stared up at him, eyes full of confused terror.  
  
"Hide better!" was all Goody could think to hiss at them before he got up off the floor.  
  
The people still by the elevator turned to face him, all but one armed to the teeth. Of course it was the seemingly unarmed one, a gentleman Goody's own age if not older, who spoke first: "Ah, Mr. Robicheaux. Such a pleasure to finally meet you. Did you drop something?"  
  
"Only a pen," Goody's mouth answered for him. It was best not to let your brain get too involved when faced with a situation such as this. "Your arrival surprised me a bit. Who, if I may ask, are you?"  
  
"I'm not important," the man said, which a younger Goody would have argued but thankfully he knew better now. He tried to place the man's face and failed. The guy had the sort of look popular at these kinds of unscheduled meetings; neutral and everyday with an air of self-confidence. This confidence should have clashed with him being the only unarmed person of a whole gang of well-armed brick houses, yet didn't. Goody mentally dubbed him 'Leader Bob'.  
  
"If you're not important, who is?" Goody took a seat on a nearby desk, playing up being relaxed and amused. It was better than hysterical. "Why all this for little old me?" He waved a hand at the gang of thugs fanning out across the archive.  
  
Leader Bob did that thing Leader Bobs tended to do; his smile grew and he spread his arms wide, as if to showcase how supposedly friendly their little encounter was meant to be. "You're a hard man to find, Mr. Robicheaux. Needed a bit of help tracking you down. With a reputation such as yours, I thought it'd be an insult to show up with a job offer and no entourage to back me."  
  
"Helping with the negotiations. I see," Goody said, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. He'd thought he'd be out of practice, but apparently talking shop while surrounded by hostile, armed thugs was like riding a bike. Fancy that. "I assume you know I'm retired."  
  
A number of the thugs now mirrored Leader Bob's smile. It was like standing in the path of an oncoming pack of sharks. Did sharks form packs? He'd have to ask Matthew later. If there was a later.  
  
"Oh, we know all about you, Mr. Robicheaux," said Leader Bob, "and so does _Infotech_." He let that name hang in the air as if he'd just pulled an ace, a royal flush, and a gun out of his sleeve. Goody did his best not to roll his eyes at the man's theatrics, both because it'd likely get him shot and because he didn't have a leg to stand on if he called anyone else a drama queen. "Luckily for you, Mr. Robicheaux, Infotech has a job offer that will reward you nicely."  
  
"Got all the reward I need, right here." Goody made a point to gesture at all the parts of the archives. It helped that he didn't know where Teddy and Matthew had hidden themselves.  
  
Leader Bob gave a derisive snort in reply. "You're a riot, Mr. Robicheaux. Just hilarious." He gestured at some of the thugs behind Goody and their footsteps shifted farther in between the stacks and bookshelves. "Now, why don't we sit down and discuss business?"  
  
Goody took a seat by the room's only table, which still had Teddy's bag of freshly baked cookies on it. He made sure not to look at the bag. Leader Bob, on the other hand, gave it a very pointed once over before he sat down.  
  
"So," Goody said, leaning back in his chair until it wobbled on its hind legs. "What's this job offer of yours?"  
  
Leader Bob made himself overly at home, leaning his elbows on the table and grabbing a cookie from the bag. "Infotech has had some issues with their local deliveries of late."  
  
From bad to worst, it seemed. "And 'of late' means?"  
  
"The past three years, give or take a month."  
  
Trying desperately not to recall exactly how long Billy had been the commune's official messenger, Goody crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I've never been in the delivery business."  
  
"No," Leader Bob agreed, "but you're known to deal with troublesome messengers, correct?"  
  
Goody couldn't bite back a harsh laugh any longer. The irony of it all was just too bizarre.  
  
"Did I say something amusing, Mr. Robicheaux?"  
  
"Boy, your intel is all kinds of out of date. If you think-" He would have continued if a loud crash hadn't interrupted him. Gunfire followed swiftly after, which had him throwing himself to the floor like any sensible person would have. He might also have started shaking like a leaf, but he'd deal with that once he was sure he hadn't gotten himself any extra holes.  
  
The shouting and shooting lasted for far too long. Goody cursed his shaking hands and knees as he hid under the table, utterly useless. He saw glimpses of military issue boots rushing back and forth between the stacks, heard crashes as file cabinets toppled over and angry orders barked from Leader Bob, who'd taken cover same as Goody.  
  
"Don't shoot!" ripped from Goody's throat the second he saw Teddy stagger out into the middle of the archive, deathly pale but seemingly unhurt. "He's unarmed, don't shoot!"  
  
The thugs swarmed Teddy like ants coming out of a ruined hill, grabbing him and forcing him to his knees. But they didn't shoot.  
  
"There's one in the elevator! Stop him!"  
  
Goody whirled on his feet, not until now realizing he'd gotten up and out of cover. He barely heard the shots fired as he saw the doors start to slide shut. They closed on a pale and shaking Matthew Cullen who had one hand on the elevator wall and the other desperately clutching at his side, blood leaking dark and thick from between his fingers.  
  
A gut wound. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.  
  
Goody didn't bother putting up a fight when the thugs descended on him.  
  


* * *

Leaping off a hover bike while in motion had never been an advisable move. Billy did it anyway. The second he spotted half of Rose Creek gathered at the entrance to the archive elevator, he let go of Sam's waist and deployed his wings. Sam likely commented the foolishness of this, but if he'd spoken the wind drowned him out.  
  
"What happened?" were the first words out of Billy's mouth when he touched ground in front of Emma Cullen, her stone cold glare raising every hackle he had.  
  
Emma squared her jaw and shoulders both before she answered. "My Matthew came up the elevator ten minutes ago, alone. He's been shot."  
  
Billy scanned the crowd, desperate to find one particular face among them. Goody was nowhere in sight. Billy's heart plummeted, but he compartmentalized the sensation and sent it away. He didn't have time to panic.  
  
"Luckily for us, Doctor Jackson happened to be in town to help out with Maude's cesarean, so things are looking hopeful," Emma continued, and for the briefest of seconds Billy felt for her - he knew the level of self-control she had to be utilizing, saw the pain that shone through in her eyes despite how no-nonsense her words and posture remained.  
  
Then the second passed and he said: "Was he able to tell you what happened?"  
  
"Infotech mercs." Billy did his best not to flinch, but the way Emma frowned ever so slightly told him he'd failed. "They're apparently here to hire Goody for something. Matthew managed to tell us that much, before he passed out. From blood loss."  
  
The absurdity of it all saved Billy from a second flinch at Emma's very pointed words. Hire Goody? Matthew must have been rambling, delirious with pain. Infotech didn't send mercenaries after mild mannered historians in small backwater communes. "Why would they be hiring my husband? For what?"  
  
"That's what we'd like to know," said Faraday, because he never could keep his mouth shut for long. "Your man got a drug debt stacked up or something? You two smuggling?"  
  
Billy silenced him with a glare. It said a lot about the situation that Faraday merely threw his hands up and backed off instead of pushing the issue.  
  
"The mercenaries are still down in the archive," said Emma, now addressing Sam. Billy had barely noted him joining the group, but it seemed he'd heard all he needed to know to be caught up. "With Goody and Matthew's cousin."  
  
Which explained why the usually so cheerful Red Harvest looked ready to commit murder. Billy couldn't blame him. He doubted he looked any better himself. Hopefully his anger hid his guilt because he needed them all to work with him, at least until the mercenaries had been dealt with. Because there did exist an explanation.  
  
They'd never talked about it. Billy had his fair share of scars he couldn't all blame on flight accidents. Goody started trembling the second you mentioned firearms. Life had been tough for most people, especially in the years before the Mars Exodus. Goody wasn't the only one with PTSD in the commune and therapists didn't grow on trees, which he'd been quick to bring up the handful of times Billy had mentioned talking to someone professional about it. It felt unfair to badger Goody about whatever it was that had shattered his nerves when Billy held on to so many secrets himself. This aside, the idea that Goody, charming and bookish Goody, could have done something that warranted the attention of Infotech goons... No, that was beyond ridiculous. They had to be targeting Goody because…  
  
"It's because of me."  
  
All heads turned to stare at Red Harvest.  
  
"What do you mean, son?" said Sam before anyone else could get their tongue back under control.  
  
"Didn't you ever wonder why Horne's so uncomfortable around me?" Red Harvest's words were short and sharp like daggers. Horne, who stood at the back of the group, looked away in a distinctly uncomfortable way. "Why do you think a game designer knows how to hack drones?"  
  
"Jack being uncomfortable around folks who aren't white isn't exactly new," Sam said, giving Horne a meaningful look. Horne gave a shrug and a quiet 'fair enough' in reply, looking shamefaced yet determined to soldier on. "But I have been wondering about your, how should we put it, _extracurricular skills_. Anything you want to share with the class, Red?"  
  
Red Harvest's face looked set in stone, a very uncanny look for someone usually so animated. He opened his mouth to speak, but Horne beat him to it:  
  
"I reckon I should go first in this confession." Horne shouldered his way through the crowd, ever so gentle as always. He stopped next to Red Harvest and sighed, as if putting down a heavy burden. "You see, I haven't always been building construction robots. Back, eh, before the civil war days, I used to work for a rather large company. They're on Mars now, but when they were down here they built," he paused, swallowed audibly, looking for all the world as if he wished the ground could open up and drag him out of view. "They built military strike drones and have kept that up even after the war ended. I, fool that I am, stayed on with them for far too long. Red Harvest and I crossed paths more than once. Never face to face though, if you get my meaning."  
  
Billy could feel the whole commune hold their breath, saw the shock and disbelief on familiar faces, the calculating look in Sam's eyes. Despite the voice at the back his head telling him to go, to open up the elevator and rush off to save Goody, this had him nailed to the spot.  
  
A rescue mission usually went better when you had back-up. Even better if that back-up was competent.  
  
"Infotech has always been against self-rule," said Red Harvest when it became clear no one else intended to break the silence. "My parents worked with the resistance during the war, and I've followed in their foot steps best as I can. I've tried to keep up with things since the open fighting ended." His stone-cold mask of rage broke ever so slightly as he glanced over at Emma, his lower lips trembling before he got it back under control. "I must have fucked up yesterday, with the messenger drones. I don't know how, but if they hurt Teddy because of me I don't know-"  
  
"Wait, you think Teddy's their target?" Faraday cut in, uncaring of the many glares this sent his way. "What about Goody? Why would they be down there looking for him if they're really aiming for Teddy? Emma said he wasn't even supposed to be down there today!"  
  
"I have to agree with Faraday," said Vasquez, which was a bit of a surprise and very unsettling. Things had to be very grim for Vasquez to pass on a chance to get Faraday riled up (apparently his eyes sparkled when he got angry or some such besotted drivel). "If you're going by that logic, they could just as easily be here because of me."  
  
"Whut?"  
  
Now it was Billy who had to agree with Faraday there, because _What?!_ He also had to force his racing heart back under control. This was taking far too long, yet going down into the archive without help would be beyond foolish. If he'd been twenty years younger and not terribly out of practice he might have risked it, but even back then it would have been foolish. The risk to Goody (and Teddy) was too great.  
  
Vasquez let out a deep sigh and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Before I opened up my shop here, it's possible I was wanted for murder. On Mars." That sure was a cold splash of water right in the face. "I didn't actually kill anyone, mind you. But if you piss off the wrong rich guy up there you tend to end up in big trouble, and those bastards can afford to hold a grudge. Had to make a lot of enemies before I got myself off Mars and over here."  
  
Sam cleared his throat in the heavy silence that followed. "Anyone else that has something to share with the class?"  
  
Faraday, eyes locked on Vasquez (and looking, if possible, even more smitten than ever before), piped up with: "Eh, yeah, uhm. I might have some gambling debts. And everything I brought along for my shop back when I arrived _might_ have been stolen goods. Maybe. Just know I took it all from a rich douchebag who totally deserved it."  
  
The besotted grin this string of rambled sentences got from Vasquez told Billy beyond the shadow of a doubt that they deserved each other.  
  
"This is all very interesting and eye-opening," said Sam, "but I'd still like to hear what Billy is keeping quiet about."  
  
Billy met Sam's eyes without hesitation. They'd wasted enough time and he wasn't about to add to that. Wordlessly, he shrugged off his wings and opened the secret compartment along its spine, revealing his daggers.  
  
"Huh." Sam held out a hand and Billy offered him one of the daggers, handle first. "You got a license for these?"  
  
"No." Billy drew in a breath through his nose, forcing his voice under control. "Now that we're all done standing around _sharing_ , how about we **go rescue my husband**." Another deep breath, a nod towards Red Harvest. "And Teddy, of course."  
  
Sam eyed the elevator doors, frowning, seeming to count the people he had at his disposal. "I don't know if-"  
  
"Fine." Emma, hands on her hips in a defensive posture she rarely used outside of visits from her mother, let her glare pass over all of them before saying, "Anyone who knows how to use a weapon, get down that elevator shaft. The rest of you, make preparations for any further shit Infotech might plan to throw our way." As people began to scramble, she raised her voice to a shout: "Oh, and as a side note, is my family the only one that's not on the run from a Martian corporation?!"  
  
Billy thought he heard Mr. Fell call out "I'm just a librarian!" but paid it little mind. Sam would have a plan and he'd need to hear it before heading below ground. At least, he told himself he needed to hear it, otherwise he'd stayed above ground for this long with Goody in the hands of mercenaries for no reason whatsoever, and that was beyond acceptable.  
  
A hand grabbed his shoulder before he could sprint for the elevator doors. Finally losing it, Billy turned to yell at whomever the hand belonged to but was brought up short by his assailant being Emma.  
  
"I want the first shot at the monster who hurt my husband." The cold rage that burned in her eyes was a sight to see. "And remember to look for Teddy too, no matter if you find your husband first. We'll talk about the rest later, all right?"  
  
Billy nodded. There wasn't much else he could do.  
  


* * *

"Tell me," said Leader Bob, pistol muzzle to Teddy's temple, "how does a man of fame and fortune such as yourself end up in a backwater like this?"  
  
Goody forced his hands not to shake. He'd be no help to Teddy if the thugs realized he was useless and broken, even if that was God's honest truth (no matter how many times Billy told him he was wrong about that. Billy didn't have the whole picture).  
  
"Fame wears on you," he said, voice still without a tremble. He should have listened to his mama and taken up acting. Would have prevented so many terrible things. "Rose Creek is a nice, anonymous place to retire. Now, you've been keeping us here for a good half hour, waving those guns around, talking about messengers. Why don't you just let that man go and give me my target, so we all can get on with our day?"  
  
Leader Bob's smile had, impressively, gotten yet colder and sharper as the minutes had ticked past. He did withdraw the gun from Teddy's head but kept it aimed in his general direction, a clear warning. He threw a look over his shoulder at the elevator; they'd managed to call it back down and the lights shone red now, signaling it as locked.  
  
"It's funny," Leader Bob said when he turned back around. "I know I'm one to beat around the bush, force of habit in this line of work, but this man here seems so completely lost." Goody glanced over at Teddy before he could stop himself, saw the terror and confusion in the poor man's eyes before he could tear his own gaze away. There had been a faint light of recognition there, fighting its way up through confusion and likely a heavy dose of denial. It would reach the surface eventually.  
  
The jig was up. He hoped Billy could forgive him, one day. Maybe a few years after his death. If he was lucky.  
  
"Wouldn't do my retirement any good if I went around tooting my own horn," he said, giving Leader Bob a look of relaxed confidence. Well, he tried to, but Teddy's presence at the corner of his vision was too much of a distraction - a painful reminder of how badly this would end, no matter how it ended.  
  
Leader Bob lowered his gun, his expression caught between disbelief and delight. "Goodnight Robicheaux," he said, gleeful beyond measure, "are you telling me your young friend here doesn't know _who you are_?"  
  
Goody shrugged. It was rather tricky to do when your hands were tied to a chair, but he pulled it off better than the air relaxation. "Guess I am."  
  
"Sonny," Leader Bob said, all his attention on Teddy now, "you have the pleasure and privilege to be used as blackmail against the foremost sniper of the southern Martian armies!" Goody had the sudden and familiar urge to throw up. "This man has a higher kill count than all my boys and girls here thrown together. Hell, he's got the highest number of recorded headshots of the whole damn war."  
  
Biting the inside of his cheek to distract from the mounting panic, at least for a little while longer, Goody said, "Lovely history lesson, thank you." Deep, calming breaths. Not too deep though, or Leader Bob might have noticed. "I assume you're keeping my companion here with you while I go take care of your…little problem?"  
  
Leader Bob smirked. "Right on the money."  
  
"You think that will work? I'm not exactly known for my bleeding heart." Rumors could be so helpful sometimes.  
  
The chair creaked ominously as Leader Bob shifted his weight in it. It had taken a few hits during the earlier firefight. Goody wished it would break and send the bastard tumbling to the floor. "Oh yes, I am well aware. But something is keeping you in this poor excuse for a settlement and you're very protective over his young man here." The leer he sent Teddy's way had nothing sexual about it, all predatory and hungry despite that. "Makes one think."  
  
Made one think up sordid tales of romance and lust based on pure human decency, apparently. Then again, Goody doubted Leader Bob would have recognized human decency if it jumped up and bit his nose off.  
  
"Uhm, boss?"  
  
Leader Bob huffed a sigh, acting for all the world as if the thug was a younger sibling bothering him while he was hanging out with friends. "What now?"  
  
"I, eh, I think the elevator isn't locked after all."  
  
Goody's heart skipped a beat, urged on by sudden hope. That, or he was feeling the start of a heart-attack.  
  
"What makes you say that?" Leader Bob got out of his chair, which did topple over then. Sadly too late to take him with it.  
  
The thug waved in the general direction of the elevator. "'Cause Lindsay said she heard it come back down just now."  
  
Hope and dread are two feelings one shouldn't mix, but they sure were mixing inside of Goody like the worst kind of moonshine. His eyes were drawn to the elevator on their own accord. The display light still shone red, but that meant nothing in a place where Red Harvest was a communicator call away.  
  
"What the fuck are you lot standing around for?!" Leader Bob barked, waving his gun around in a way that told Goody he either had no idea how guns worked or that he didn't care who he shot. "Find out what-"  
  
Right then, Joshua Faraday dropped from the ceiling, holding two cans that spewed forth green and blue smoke in an ever growing cloud around him.  
  
If he shouted "Yippee ki-yay, motherfuckers!" as he did so, Goody was too stunned to notice.


	3. Chapter 3

Sniper. The word rang through Billy's head, deafening him even to Faraday's boastful shouting. Goody had been a military _sniper_. On Mars. With a kill count high enough to make him famous.  
  
What the hell?  
  
On autopilot, Billy dropped from the ceiling and took out the two closest thugs. With the gas mask keeping the smoke at bay the mercenaries proved little challenge, and thus a poor distraction. He'd already spotted Goody and Teddy, both tied to chairs in the middle of the archive, both under armed guard. He'd have to deal with that, and quick.  
  
A crossbow bolt out of the dark took out the man behind Teddy, just as Billy's dagger embedded itself in the eye of the woman behind Goody. Goody, who despite being blinded by smoke and likely on the cusp of a panic attack (because there was no reason for him to have lied about his PTSD; no way he could have faked it for so long) had managed to free one of his arms.  
  
Billy couldn't hold back a proud grin as Goody used said freed hand to topple himself and Teddy to the floor, down under the smoke and behind cover.  
  
On his left, Billy saw Faraday barrel past, voice now thankfully muffled by his gas mask, voice mods or no voice mods. Whatever he was shouting it was likely of little consequence. And whatever curses Vasquez were screaming at Faraday as he rushed after and made sure none of the slightly more competent mercenaries got their hands on the reckless idiot, they were probably best left unheard.  
  
"Who the fuck are these guys?!" This shout came from the only man in the room who wore a suit and fancy dress shoes. He stood center stage in the middle of the archive, seemingly uncaring of both the slowly dispersing gas and the bullets being fired more or less blindly by his allies.  
  
Proximity activated armor, no doubt. Those could be a pain.  
  
_"We're coming down the elevator,"_ Sam's voice said over the radio, sounding as calm and cool as ever. _"How are things on your end?"_  
  
_"Fucking terrific,"_ Vasquez answered before Billy could, clearly out of breath. _"The gas is almost gone and there's at least-, Faraday, get your ass back behind cover you **idiot**!"_  
  
"Red Harvest and I will have our people safe in a moment." Billy took a few steps forward, keeping behind the man in the suit. There was always a way around armor, you just needed to find it. "Red, cover me."  
  
He couldn't see where exactly Red Harvest had taken up position, but the swish of an arrow followed by a cut off cry to his left was reassurance enough. Spotting Teddy crawling towards the elevator added to this feeling, though it couldn't fully balance out the dread of not knowing where Goody was. That dread increased into icy numbness when the man in the suit grabbed a gun off the floor and wrenched a familiar figure to their feet.  
  
"You shouldn't be standing up in this," came Goody's half-choked voice from across the room. He coughed once, relaxing in the suit-man's grip with the kind of nervous energy that screamed terror to anyone who knew Goody well. Secrets former life or no, Billy knew Goody very well.  
  
"Get me out of here," the suit-man said to Goody. He kept his voice low, but Billy had gotten close enough to both hear this and catch Goody's attention. The way Goody's eyes widened in surprise would have been satisfying if not for the difficult talk Billy knew lay in their future. Well, a good marriage was said to be built on open communication. Hopefully that would prove itself correct.  
  
The suit-man didn't shriek when Billy tapped him on the shoulder, but it looked to have been a near thing.  
  
"Hello, I have a message for you," Billy said, because he could. Bless Red Harvest and his gas mask voice mods. "Please let go of my husband or I will have to cut off your fingers."  
  
The suit-man stared at Billy in open horror. Seeing as the gas mask was translucent, Billy did his best to not look pleased at this. Not in front of Goody.  
  
"Choi Ha-joon?!" the suit-man screamed, pushing off Goody as if he'd suddenly turned into a venomous snake. "The messenger for this stain of a commune is _Choi Ha-joon the Shadow Dagger_?"  
  
Billy winced. Never let a teenager pick their assassin codename.  
  
"No wonder we had such shit luck getting any surveillance set up around here," the suit-man muttered, right before realization caught up with him. "Wait a minute, did you say _husband_?"  
  
A soft click drew Billy's and the suit-man's attention back to Goody, who'd apparently welcomed himself to the suit-man's gun. "Yes. Husband," Goody said, looking pleased as Punch. "See, I wouldn't have taken your terrible 'job offer' even if I hadn't been married to the man you wished shot, but I'm sure you can understand my utter lack of enthusiasm now, hmm?"  
  
The suit-man, caught between them, shifted into a defensive stands. He was at least smart enough to not run. "Shooting me won't do any good."  
  
"With you wearing armor, no," Goody said with nonchalance Billy never had expected from him in a situation involving firearms. Billy could still tell Goody was two seconds from fainting, but he doubted suit-man could tell. "But as you said yourself, I am chiefly known as a sniper. I took out targets of interest, usually those in command on the battlefield. Do you think they didn't wear armor into battle? And do you think I would miss if I shoot someone point blank?"  
  
The suit-man staggered, his knees shaking, his lips pressed into a thin line. Billy tightened his grip on the daggers he had in hand but didn't strike. Yet. Armor meant fail-safes, and you had to be even more careful with those.  
  
"So," the suit-man said, "this is a trap. Should have known this job looked too easy to be true."  
  
"Trap?" Billy asked, mostly to call the suit-man's attention to him, get him to turn his back to the elevator where Red Harvest was helping Teddy to his feet.  
  
"Oh come now." The suit-man's smile had taken on an edge of hysteria. "You don't supposed I believe you two, Vasquez, and Joshua Faraday just happened to end up living in the same nowhere shit-hole? That you're all willing to take on a squad of Infotech mercenaries without pay? Pull the other one, it's got bells on it."  
  
Billy would have added something here, if one of said mercenaries hadn't interrupted by stumbling out from between the nearest filing cabinets, unarmed and bleeding.  
  
"Sir," the mercenary said, "I'm pretty sure the man who just knee-capped Boris is wanted for murder on-"  
  
"I KNOW THAT!"  
  
Billy seized the opportunity to cut the cuff links off the suit-man's left sleeve, deactivating his armor with a fizzle and a pop.  
  
It was hard not to laugh in the suit-man's face.  
  
Sam and Horne came strolling out of the elevator as soon as the ventilation had taken care of the smoke. They in their turn took care of the last three mercenaries, mostly thanks to the construction bots Horne had brought with him. Sam set about arresting all mercenaries still breathing. This turned out to be the majority of them, due to impressive body armor and impressive shooting. Among the losses were the woman who'd taken one of Billy's daggers to the eye (Billy felt no regret over this as she'd held a gun to Goody's head at the time), one man who'd managed to catch Faraday in a strangle hold for about three seconds until Vasquez caught up with them, and the man who'd shot Matthew. How and when Emma had gotten him, how she'd known it was him, and where she'd been during the fight, Billy wasn't sure he wanted to know.  
  
Piling everyone into the elevator took a few turns. Red Harvest and Teddy went up first, together with Horne, a few constructions bots, and a number of prisoners. It was sweet to see Red Harvest and Teddy cuddling close to each other, even if they were surrounded by defeated mercenaries in handcuffs and a very awkward Jack Horne trying to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.  
  
Billy volunteered for him and Goody to stay behind the longest, and no one protested this.  
  
"I think we need to…talk," Billy said once they were alone in the archive, absentmindedly cleaning the blood off his last dagger.  
  
"Yes," Goody answered, his expert grip on the pistol suddenly awkward. "I-, I think we do."  
  
Billy took a moment to simply look at his husband. The far too familiar shivers had set in more and more, and on pure instinct Billy sat down on the floor and pulled Goody into a hug.  
  
Talking could wait. They had time.  
  


* * *

"Is that all of them?" Goody heard Emma say. Her voice sounded distant, as if under water. Someone answered her, but he couldn't quite focus.  
  
He knew he was clinging to Billy. That wasn't exactly new, but it usually occurred at night, in the privacy of their home after he'd had a nightmare - well, memory. They were always memories. Not that he'd ever told Billy that.  
  
His fingers curled tighter around the fabric of Billy's shirt on their own accord. A familiar "shh" from Billy set the whirlwind inside Goody's head to slowly unwinding. It would take a while, it always did, but the knowledge that Billy had no intention of leaving helped. Also, that Billy had just as much to confess as he did. Glorious irony.  
  
"I'll get them out of your hair as soon as my back-up arrives," Sam said from somewhere to Goody's left. "Don't worry about…well, the irregularities regarding who lives here in Rose Creek. Even if these thugs decide to start babbling, I doubt anyone would believe them."  
  
"Mmm-hmm."  
  
"Matthew doing all right?"  
  
"He pulled through. It'll be a long recovery, but he's," Emma paused to swallow, or sigh in relief, or something similar that Goody couldn't place, "he's alive. Everyone's alive. That's," another pause, "that's enough."  
  
"You take care of you and yours, Emma," Sam said, "and I'll take care of upholding the law."  
  
"Which means?"  
  
"Which means I'll be taking care of the people I have proof committed crimes. Martian para-military invading Earth communes, that's definitely a crime. Happening to share a name with someone wanted on Mars? Not so much."  
  
Goody let out a breath he'd been holding for a long time. Probably since his wedding day. Or possibly since the first time he'd seen Billy, during that bar fight over in Nettle Hill.  
  
"Ready to go home?" Billy whispered into his ear, drowning out all conversation.  
  
Goody managed a nod. "In a minute. Let's…let's just sit here a little longer."  
  
They did. It was nice. No one interrupted them, hell, no one seemed to be paying them any attention at all. Someone must have asked questions at some point, but if they had Goody's memory wasn't up for noting that down yet.  
  
"At least some good came of this," Billy said when there were only a few faint voices left, buzzing around them like bumblebees in a sunlit garden.  
  
"What did?"  
  
Billy leaned his head back, nodding toward the something behind them.  
  
Goody turned around just in time to see Faraday and Vasquez tripping over their own feet and start rolling down the hill leading into the commune center. They didn't stop kissing even when they'd rolled to a stop.  
  
"Huh. Guess you're right."  
  
"When am I not?"  
  
"…you know what, you have me there, _cher_."  
  


* * *

The aftermath took some serious clean-up, both physically and verbally. Sam carried his part off with aplomb, which was a relief even if it was to be expected. Billy had taken Goody home the second Emma had let them go, with the sarcastic comment of, "If someone hadn't come for Goody, they'd have come for one of the other apparent _dozens_ of Most Wanted living here", which…fair.  
  
The dishes from yesterday hadn't been done, since Goody usually took care of those when he got back from the archive, right before preparing dinner. Billy took care of them this time, while Goody made his way up to their bedroom.  
  
When Billy joined him upstairs, he half expected to find Goody asleep. "So," he heard instead from the nest Goody had made on their bed, "you're 'The Shadow Blade'?"  
  
Billy let out a sigh so long his soul might have left his body for a minute. "Shadow Dagger. Don't judge me for mistakes my fourteen year old self made."  
  
He'd meant it as playful, but by how still Goody went in his pile of blankets he could tell he'd chosen his words poorly. He hurried on with, "I've got no regrets about my old life. Other than not getting out of it sooner. But I've never killed anyone I didn't feel deserved it." He didn't say 'not like you apparently feel you have'. The civil war on Mars ended literal decades ago. Great sniper or no, Goody must have been in his early twenties when he'd fought. Not exactly the age of rational decision making, especially in wartime. Billy knew that all too well, first hand.  
  
"So."  
  
"So."  
  
Billy took a seat on the bed. Goody made space for him as easily as always, which had Billy smiling despite the day they'd had. "We make quite an impressive team, I'd say."  
  
The laugh that escaped Goody spoke of relief and amusement, which was reassuring. Goody had a laugh for every situation, even the worst ones. "I agree, husband of mine. Come here."  
  
Billy allowed Goody to pull him close, down beneath every blanket and cover they owned. Maybe talking wasn't so important to get done all at once. Maybe they knew everything worth knowing about each other already.  
  


* * *

For once, Goody woke up before his husband. This could be because of the both enjoyable and exhausting activities they'd gotten up to the day and night before - of which taking down a team of Infotech mercenaries had been one - but Goody chose to take it as a victory nonetheless.  
  
"Stop smirking," Billy muttered after a good ten minutes. "Your smugness is keeping me from precious sleep."  
  
"I can't help being smug. I get to be married to you. That's plenty to be smug about."  
  
Billy rolled over and mock-glared up at Goody, the fire in his eyes anything but hostile. "You have to be the sappiest person on this here Earth."  
  
"Actually-"  
  
"Oh shut up."  
  
Goody let himself be pulled down for a kiss, smile widening into a grin. He was one lucky _lucky_ man.


End file.
